


Run Rabbit Run

by mellow_spacebird



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: F/F, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellow_spacebird/pseuds/mellow_spacebird
Summary: Female!Reader x Miss PeregrineThe reader is Jacob Portman's older sister. When he sets off for Cairnholm, their parents charge her with keeping him safe. Little does she know, her whole world is about to change.(Title borrowed from the loop-reset song.)
Relationships: Alma LeFay Peregrine/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter picks up as Jake and his sister are on the ferry to Cairnholm.
> 
> Happy reading, lovely people :)

"Jake, look!" you point to a magnificent falcon coasting high above the water.

"Cool," he shrugs.

You had inherited your father's love of birdwatching; Jake had not.

"I think it's a Peregrine Falcon, though it's too far away to tell for sure," you continue, undeterred by his lacking enthusiasm.

Your flight had been long and the ferry ride seemed interminable. Both you and Jake were exhausted but you felt the need to keep the conversation going. When Grandpa Abe died, Jake had taken it the hardest. That was why you were off to this drizzly Scottish island, after all. Jake's therapist thought it would give him "closure" and your parents thought you were Jake's keeper.

As brothers go, Jake was pretty good. He was neat, interesting, and generally kind. You didn't really get on as kids but came to a truce as adolescents; as much as you hated being responsible for him, he was your brother and you would never let anything happen to him.

While you think, your eyes follow the falcon as it dives and rises, dives and rises. It's utterly engrossing, the way the bird displays such grace and ease. If you didn't know better, you would guess it had had decades of practice.

The jolt of the ferry against the dock startles you from your reverie.

"So, this is it then," Jake remarks with a weighty exhale. "Let's go. I want to take a hike to the old children's home before it gets dark."


	2. Chapter 2

The children's home looked like the memory of a flower, striking but faded around the edges. Clearly, it had once been beautiful. Then it had been bombed. Now, the elements consume it, warping the floorboards and curling the paint. You like it, in a melancholy sort of way.

'Abe must have been happy here,' you think.

Jake stands statuesque beside you. Everything since Grandpa Abe's death had led him here. You decide he needs a moment and walk ahead.

The structure, though halved, is still imposing, almost stern. You walk up the steps carefully, testing each one before placing your full weight on it. Miraculously, they hold, and you walk through the front door, which hangs ajar. Atop the swirling banister, of what must once have been a spectacular staircase, perches a falcon. You can almost swear it's the same one you saw before, but why?

"Well, hello there," you say, addressing the majestic bird and offering a polite smile. "I suppose you're lucky enough to have inherited this wonderful house. It's incredible, isn't it?" You look around, admiring the remaining wallpaper and grand hallways.

"My grandfather grew up here, years ago," you explain, more to yourself than to the falcon. "He used to tell Jake and I these fantastic stories about the other kids and their headmistress. You wouldn't believe me if I told you," you chuckle wistfully. "If I recall correctly, the headmistress could turn into a bird like you."

When you finish speaking, a single tear rolls down your cheek. The bird tilts its head and studies you--sadly, you think. Looking out for Jake hadn't left you much time nor energy for your own mourning. Talking about Grandpa Abe's stories, even to a bird, is like setting them free and it only makes your loss feel more real.

You wander through the rest of the floor, careful to give the falcon a wide berth in case it felt territorial of its home. A while later, Jake joins you and the two of you wander together in silence.

Every once in a while, you turn around, trying to shake the odd sensation of being watched. A couple times, you think you see the hem of a dress or a small hand disappearing around a corner, but you and Jake are the only ones there.

You return to the inn at dusk and put off discussing your impressions of the house until morning in favor of falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, after a light breakfast, you and Jake walk along the beach. It's rocky and wind-beaten--not at all a good place for swimming, but sufficient for a small walk and an appropriate place for private conversation. Contrary to your expectations, Jake speaks up first.

"What did you think of the house?" he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"It was nice," you reply. "I liked it. It must have been beautiful in its heyday."

"Yeah," he agrees, "but what did you think of _walking through_ the house?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is gonna sound crazy, but I felt like someone was watching us and that big bird from the ferry was there, too."

You had noticed it, too, but Jake's therapist had warned you not to compound his 'delusions.' He already believed a monster killed your grandfather; his paranoia shouldn't be encouraged.

"I saw the bird," you concede.

He toes the sand in frustration. "But didn't it feel... I don't know, weird? Off?"

"It's just an old house."

A couple minutes later, you see the falcon again. You'd never considered falcons might like the beach. It's flying unusually low and soon disappears into a small cave, barely noticeable between two gargantuan boulders. Strange. It might provide a good distraction for Jake, though.

"I've never seen a falcon enter a cave like that before. Come on, let's go check it out!" You practically drag Jake to the cave's entrance.

"What if it attacks us, though?" he asks.

"Well, there's only one way to find out."


	4. Chapter 4

The cave is dark and humid and you start to understand why Jake was worried about encountering a bird of prey in here: You would hardly see it until it was right in front of your face. The cave is longer than you expected and, eventually, the humidity fades into a cool dampness.

You think you see daylight a couple yards ahead and assume that you've circled back to another area of the beach. When you step outside, however, the beach is different. The morning's overcast sky had vanished, replaced with cloudless blue and warm sunshine. You and Jake hadn't been in the cave ten minutes and already there was no sign of clouds nor wind.

"Huh," you muse.

Even stranger, you see the falcon nearby. It's perched on a boulder at eye-level, almost as if it's waiting for you. When you make eye contact, it takes off in the direction of the forest and the children's home. You're not usually one for a wild goose chase but something's different and you need to find out what. You take off after the bird, forcing Jake to run to keep up.

You sprint from the beach, through the bog, between trees and over boulders. Each turn the falcon takes, you follow. Just as your legs can't possibly take any more and your lungs burn with exertion, the falcon disappears and the children's home rises before you.

This time, though, the stately victorian mansion you are looking up at is complete. The roof sits intact and the facade is vibrant. Animal-shaped topiaries line the garden and children in dated clothes chase one another around them. You turn to face Jake.

"There is no way this is the same house," he speaks both of your minds.

"It can't be," you agree, breathless.

"Excuse me!" Jake calls to one of the children, a lithe boy in a smart suit and tophat. "Do you know where we are?"

The boy studies you inquisitively, taking in first your clothes, then your confused expressions.

"I had hoped this dream would be prophetic," he replies cryptically. "I think you'd better come inside, where we can talk properly." The dapper child leads you across the lawn to the wrap-around porch and knocks succinctly on the front door before sauntering back to his peers.

You and Jake fix each other with perplexed glances. Your attention is drawn back to the door as it opens abruptly.

Though you had regained your breath from the chase with the falcon, it feels as if you are once again breathless. Before you and Jake stands a woman unlike any you have encountered. She is slightly shorter than you but her presence exudes dominance. You have no doubt she is the lady of this house.

"Jake, (Y/N), I've been expecting you. Please, come in!"


	5. Chapter 5

The woman leads you both into the parlor, a room of modest size replete with plush chairs, an intricately-carved settee, and a smattering of matching throw pillows. As you follow, you study the intricate curls of her coiffed, blue-black updo; there's something buoyant about them, as if they were crafted from feathers. It only adds to your curiosity about the woman before you and the house in which you stand.

She stops in the center of the room and so do you and Jacob. There's a moment of charged silence, as if she is gathering herself, and then she turns abruptly to face you.

"Please sit. We have much to discuss."

When you remain frozen, she urges you on, waving a hand slightly as she fills and lights a pipe fetched from some unseen pocket in the folds of her dress.

You and Jake settle on opposite ends of the settee, while the woman perches in an armchair across from you, checks her pocket watch, puffs at her pipe, studies you with a perceptive and unwavering gaze. When she finally speaks, it catches you off-guard.

"Am I correct in presuming that neither of you know who I am?"

You clear your throat, awkwardly, "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Ah, well," she continues, "Abe never did seem the type to share much about peculiardom. He always was an odd bird like that." She chuckles at her joke, which you don't quite understand.

"Abe? Like our grandfather, Abraham Portman?" Jake asks.

"Yes, that Abe, exactly," she takes a puff from her pipe, "and you are Jacob, and you are (Y/N), are you not?"

It's a rhetorical question, yet you nod dumbly in assent.

Silence. The insistent tick of a pocket watch. Curls of smoke lifting through the air.

Jake catches on first. "You're Miss Peregrine."

"That I am," she smirks in a way that sets your cheeks on fire.

"Grandpa Abe used to tell stories about you, and the children, and this house--fairytales, really--when we were little," he elaborates.

"I had supposed he might have; we are the stuff of myth," Miss Peregrine twirls a hand lazily through the air and smiles a wistful smile, which quickly fades, giving way to her previous expression of intensity.

"As I said earlier," Miss Peregrine continues, "I've been expecting you, though you found our loop slightly quicker than I anticipated." A cloud seems to cross her expression, mixed with something akin to curiosity, and her gaze settles on you. "I am not usually wrong."

You are about to ask what she means when her gaze darts sharply towards the hall, head barely turning.

"It is not polite to eavesdrop, children. Come out and introduce yourselves," she orders.

At first, nothing happens, then, one-by-one, several children step into the doorway, including a few of the ones you saw outside. The last to appear is the smartly-dressed boy who showed you in.

"I told them what would happen, but they wanted to see for themselves," he shrugs, then bows deeply, tophat clasped in front of him. "Horace Somnusson, pleasure to make your acquaintance."


End file.
